Crash Test
by Metrimethyl
Summary: Fleur is just trying to get away from it all when she ends up in an unexpected natural disaster.  FleurHermione In progress story, but this may not turn out to be the beginning of it later on   Yes, I'm sorry


Fleur sighed in exasperation. Yet another boy had just asked her out in the typically crude fashion of boys her age.

"Oy, Fleur! Fancy you and I going for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade this weekend?!" The brash young man had hollered from across the hall at her. 

One cold look quelled him, and he slunk off towards the Great Hall, publically humiliated. Fleur, on the other hand, once again returned to her book as she walked forward through the hallway towards the library.

The British didn't have much in terms of taste, Fleur mused, as she glided forward through the crowds, but she was eager to reach the library. Its hanging tapestries and oak tables warmed by candles and sunlight never ceased to amaze her. She longed for the feel of its leather armchairs, soft and inviting from having encouraged students to study for centuries, and the sight of its old windows that stretched several stories, full of pictures and history in their own right. She still had to face the terror of Madame Pince, the library's formidable guardian, but it was worth it for the general feeling of peace and quiet of the library. Hopefully it would also distract her, although it was unlikely, from thinking about...

"Merde..." Fleur swore gracefully under her breath as a bushy head of caramel brown curls bulleted around one of the bookstacks, trailing a bobbing stack of books about two feet high. Of course, Fleur knew what allowed the stack of books to seemingly levitate. Only one person was so pigheadedly fascinated by reading that they would have such strength.

The mere sight of Hermione's hair and her books froze Fleur in her spot , her heart beating like a drum. Fleur noticed it, too. Confused, she began to creep towards the armchairs of the French language section, figuring that Hermione hadn't picked up French just yet in her conquest of the world's literature and wouldn't go there. Unfortunately for her, she did manage to get to a reading area along the way, but never quite made it past that.

"Sacre Bl-!" A pile of quickly moving books collided with Fleur, knocking her down onto a pile of cushions spread on the floor. Reeling, she struggled to prop herself up, as someone ... on top of her ... attempted to pull themselves together. Fleur started cursing a bit more in French before switching back to English. 

"What was dat? An 'urricane?" Fleur growled. "Could you not watch more carefully for others instead of using them as target practice?!" 

The person on top of her flicked their attention from the fallen books to Fleur. Chocolate eyes locked with the French girl's in that moment, and suddenly, Fleur's breath caught in her throat like an inflating frog. Her heart started to race, to pound with the realization of who was in front of her, no, on top of her! Hermione apologized profusely as her eyes raked the floor around Fleur, searching for her fallen books. "I'm sorry," Hermione muttered, trying to avoid looking at Fleur again out of embarrassment. "I was a bit busy with my books and should have been watching out for people..." Hermione paused when she realized that she was looking for books while still seated atop none other than Fleur, who was still propped up on her elbows, dumbfounded by the fact that Hermione was straddling her. Fleur just stared back at her, not having really absorbed what Hermione had just said. The moment felt too right for her to be able to do anything at all. All she could do was lie there, savouring the situation, the way Hermione's leggings brushed against her bare thighs just below her skirt, the way Hermione's fingers poked her through her sweater slightly as the younger witch supported her weight on them. And ... merde... her weight. The feeling of Hermione on top of her was too much. Fleur blushed intensely, finally unable to bear how good all of it felt. The spell broken, Hermione snapped back to reality.

"Fl ... Fleur?" Hermione mumbled slowly... her tongue thick. Then she immediately reddened like a tomato and, after another heartbeat, rolled off of Fleur as she would have dived off of a wayward broom.

Fleur lay there a little bit longer, still in shock. In what seemed like an instant to her, Hermione gathered her scattered and slightly affronted books and shot to her feet, her still blushing face now hidden by a curtain of hair.

"Uh... so ... sorry about that ... wasn't looking ... uh ... later..." Hermione, or rather, a stack of mobile books with caramel brown hair, fought inertia to accelerate down the stack and off into the sadly very large library away from the still stunned Fleur.

Still on the ground and now alone amongst the pillows, Fleur raised a hand, index finger pointed, and said, "It's okay, Hermione! I'm alright!" and "Yes, I'll see you later." to the air and the books around her, her words never reaching the ears of their intended listener.

Flying through the stacks, meanwhile, Hermione was attempting to smack her forehead with one hand while hugging all of her books carefully with the other. Merlin, she thought. Could you have picked a better way to pull a move?! Attempting to kick herself with the heels of her black school shoes as she ran, a punishment for her blunder, while also secretly replaying the whole thing in her mind, she dashed off to a far corner of the library. She intended to hide amongst the books until her face, at least, had lost its new colouring and she had calmed somewhat. 


End file.
